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"LIFE 

» i 

OF TH£ 

BEAUTIFUL AND ACCOMPLISHED 

DANSEUSE, 

MADEMOISELLE FANNY ELSSLER, 

OF 

VIENNA. 


THE EARLIER PART OF HER LIFE COMPILED FROM 

“BELL’S LIFE IN LONDON,” 

AND REPLETE WITH ANECDOTES RELATED BY A R 

ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, 

LATELY FROM LONDON ] AND ALSO FROM A NUMBER OF THE 

AMERICAN PAPERS* 






SELECTED AND COMPILED 
BY 

A LADY OF THIS CITY. 


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Printed for the Purchaser, and/or Sale, wholesale and retail , at No. 65 ffalnut 
street, Philadelphia ; No. 141 Fulton street , and retail at the Big Tree 9 
Wall street, near the Custom House , New York* 


























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PREFACE. 


The Terpsichore of proud Europe, has crossed the great At- 
lantic, to exhibit to our spirited Americans the “ Poetry of Motion/* 
in its perfect and elegant style. On her reception here, I should be 
silent, as that has already gone the rounds of the papers, great and 
small ; and content myself with assuring my readers it was as hos- 
pitable and cheering as her most sanguine admirers could desire; 
but as I well know how transient newspaper celebrity is, I will 
amuse my readers, in the course of this work, with some brief ex- 
tracts from some of our most respectable papers, thereby rendering 
permanent what might otherwise have been a meteor in the Ameri- 
can Hemisphere ; as all persons must be conscious that pamphlets 
are most generally preserved with more care than a Newspaper. But 
who, my readers will ask, is the Terpsichore of whom you speak in such 
flattering terms? Dear Madam, well served, Miss, or Madam ; if you 
are not better informed, I will determine the matter: She is a beauti- 
ful girl, and first appeared in her native city of Vienna, where she 
drew her breath, and sought for fame and fortune. 

THE AUTHORESS. ; 


LIFE OF FANNY ELSSLER. 

Miss Fanny Elssler is the daughter of a highly respectable Mer- 
chant, of the Imperial city of Vienna, where she was born and edu- 
cated, as her family was wealthy, as well as honorable; this is obvi- 
ous from her education, which is a proper one, she being highly ac- 
complished in every branch of female usefulness, proper for a Lady 
like her, who seemed destined to move in a genteel circle of society. 
Though misfortune has since pressed her to the earth, from whence 
she has bounded, like the Chamois, by the exertion of youth, beauty, 
health, and spirits, “Heaved s second best gift” into wealth, fame, and 
popularity. As dancing is her forte, and her parents having judgment 
sufficient to discern and cultivate her youthful ta’ent. as they were con- 
scious it was in that only she would acquire peculiar excellence, placed 
her at an early age under the tuition of the best master Vienna produ- 
ced, from whose unremitting attention and instruction, she derived such 
rapid improvement, that at five years of age, she excited the admira* 


4 


\ 


lion, and was pronounced the most graceful figure, that had ever been 
exhibited in the science of dancing. This improvement in her favo- 
rite art, so gratified her affectionate parents, tnat no expense was 
spired to render her a proficient in the cuitivat.on of tne graces, and 
their expenditures was amply repaid, at tne early age I have men- 
tioned, when they seen her move like a butterfly, over the floor of a 
brilliantly lighted Ball room, the fairy “ Queen of Night ; u — while 
love for the beautiful child, and admiration of her extraordinary pro- 
ficiency in the elegant art, to which she was so devoutly devoted, 

While wonder filled the mind, 

To see a baby thus inclined. 

How much greater was their exultation, on arriving at a proper age, 
to know her move, the most admired Belle in the “ corps of Terpsi- 
chore,” on the Vienna Opera House boards, she being then both a 
beautiful, well formed, elegantly brilliant girl. Having been com- 
pelled to appear before the public, to remunerate her father for her 
education, he having been unfortunate in his business, or the lovely 
Fanny, had not been a danseuse. That, maugre the deficiencies of 
liberality in the fancy of Fanatics, that Supreme Being, who decides 
over the fate of dancers, as well as those pious persons, extended his 
divine mercy to Fanny, and rendered her the admiration of Europe, 
as before she had attained an age to seek the patronage of a generous 
public, she was compelled to accept the terms offer* d her by the Mana- 
ger of the Vienna Opera House, to pay the debt of gratitude due to her 
parents, f>r their extraordinary expense in her education; thus her 
brilliant talent as a danseuse, enabled them to suppoit their u ual 
genteel emab'ishment, as her annual income from the Opera House 
was liberal, and the public justlv generous, from a consciousness that 
a sense of paternal duty had brought her before them, therefore 
her benefit was always an overflow, or, as an English writer should 
say, a “ bumper ” Thus she continued to improve both her fortune 
and her fame, enjoying the approbation of her own head and heart, 
in thus cheering the declining age of her parents, by her dutiful 
conduct, and acquiring by practice the perfection in her profrssion, 
which is so peculiarly her own. Years rolled on ; Fanny became 
a blooming beautiful woman, if possible more elegantly brilliant than 
in her early days of childhood, when she had only held out the pro- 
mise of that excellence, to which she has now so happily arrived. 
These halcyny days passed gaily over ; life to her was the brightness 
of a summer’s day, for she lived only, 

To rise with the lark, 

Who soars on fancy's wing; 

Or the fairy group, 

Who gaily dance and sing. 

Beloved by her fond parents, [admired by the proud nobility of Vien* 
ua, what had Fanny to wish for ; nothing but love — and to that she 


«ver turned a cold and soul thrilling heart. Fame she had gained, 
and fortune she was acquiring by the proceeds of her profession, 
with amb t on to attain to the hea l of that profession, and then she 
had not another wish ungratified. This ambition was fully satisfied ; 
nightly was her services required; as she was the chief magnet of 
attraction to the house, to all ranks of people in Vienna, 

Who fed her thirst for fame, 

And gained her an immortal name ; 

Her compeers wondered as they gazed, 

At the sparkling brilliance of the stage. 

Thus joyously, happily, and respected, passed the first years of 
pretty Fanny’s entering in her teens ; beloved by many, old, middle- 
aged, and young; the ancient and middle-aged for her virtues and 
dutiful submission to her parents; and by the young, for her beauty, 
talents, accomplishments, good humor, and generosity, of which the 
citizens of Philadelphia have had occular demonstration, by her vo- 
lunteering in the service of the wandering Europeans in the Arch- 
street Theatre. Thus honorably and delightfully till the age of six- 
teen, when the means of exerting her generosity on an extensive 
s^ale, towards any age, sex, or country, was immaterial to Fanny ; all 
alike, past the days of Fanny ; she had her bounty ; this generous sys- 
tem of benevolence, so extensive, endeared her to the citizens of Vi- 
enna, generally; and the Nobility, nay, even to Royalty itself, that 
she was looked up to with both respect, admiration, and wonder, all 
ranks strove to emul ite each other in rendering her benefit a source 
of monument to all parties, as the knowledge which they all possess, 
that a lovely girl, scarcely past the days of childhood, not only support- 
ing her parents in ease, comfort, and elegance, 

Vet cheering the hearts 
Of many a child of want. 

This bore her fame to the most remote corners of Europe. 

The poor look up to her, 

And call her blessed. 

Such numerous virtues and talents, combining in a young and 
beautiful girl, dependant on the pub ic for her support, attracting the 
attention of many a hoary, though rich libertine, 

Who strove by every art to win 
This blooming beauty into sin ; 

But all in vain, for to their shame, 

Bright Fanny kept pure, her virtue and her fame. 

She took their presents, read their letters, laughed at, then destroyed 
them, and rejected their offers with silent contempt. Her fond pa- 
rents watch their charming girl narrowly, being perfectly ou fait 
of the grossly insulting proposals made to their beautiful daughter, 
which her father would have resented, as became a parent and a gen- 
tleman, who sees the tempter, like the venomous serpent, striving to 


6 


allure his darling child, the prop and support of his age, to destruc- 
tion and death; but age and infirmities crushed his manly spirit, and 
he confined his carelo ever attending her to the Opera House, even 
at rehearsals. On the nightof her performance, conducting her to her 
dressing room, seating himself at the door till she was properly 
equipped for her public exhibition, then conducting her to the wing, 
from whence she made her elegant entree on the sta^e, from whence 
her duty performed, there he receive d her, and conducted her to her 
happy home and doting mother. Now, who could even for moment 
suppose, that a young lady, thus protected, admired, and esteemed, 
could ever deviate from the paths of moral rectitude and honor, 

Yet such, alas, was pretty Fanny’s fate, 

And to her heart, repentance came, I hope, not too late, 

To suide her to those realms of heavenly joys, 

Where bliss, eternal, is the wishful prize j 

now, who could suppose, that virtues, so protected, could fall from 
her exalted heights of celebrity, to wander in the wilds of tempta- 
tion, and from thence, stray in the wilderness of error, whose paths 
lead but to sorrow and repentance, from thence they fall to death; as 
rapid as when robbed of virtue by him, her young heart has chosen 
for her worshipped idol for whom she sacrificed woman’s brightest 
jewel, honor, and her virgin fame. I must entreat your pardon, and 
proceeded with the history of pretty Fanny’s earliest days of hap- 
piness. 

She continued on the highest pinnacle of fame, of virtue, beauty, 
and philanthropy, till she attained her sixteenth year. How few 
young girls, on the European boards, as dancers, preserve their chas- 
tity uncontaminated for the long period that Fanny did ; how few can 
extenuate their errors with saying they were tempted into sin by 
youth, love, beauty, wealth, and royalty. Dancers, in all countries 
and in all ages, from the dancing girls of Asia, to the most celebra- 
ted danseuse of Italy, Spain, France, Germany, England, and Ameri- 
ca, are, by the seducers of all ages in these countries, considered 
as public property; therefore, are they admired, followed, flattered, 
and caressed, till they fall ; and how terrible is their deviation from 
virtue, not only to themselves, but to their parents; their honest 
lovers, if they have any, and their public fame, are all sacrificed, to 
the vile b trayers, as these intrigues attract public attention at their 
commencement, and their progress is watched, and talked of, then 
blazoned to the world with all exaggerations the envy of both sexes 
can invent, for there is nothing transpires behind the scenes of a 
Theatre, that is not under the surveillance of the whole host connected 
with the establishment; among the most prying of them stands the 
corps de ballet , or bally girls, as they are called, curiosity impels, and 
envy of the superior attraetions^of the favorite and popular dancers of 
the day, prompts them to watch her in every action, word, and even 
the glances of her eye, on the stage ; watching them, as they trip the 


7 


measure round to a sweet and pleasing sound. Thus, they ga^e with 
an evil eye, and judge her, till sfte falls ; then the cutting sneer, and 
base insidious smile, betrays their knowledge, then comes the sly 
whisper, till the secret becomes too weighty to be longer kept, then 
the clarion of their tongues proclaims a scandalous tale to the world ; 
nay, even the destroyer himself, to excite the envy of her other ad- 
mirers, boast of his success, and by his public attention draws down 
calumny on the name of his fair victim ; careless of the consequences 
that will ensue to her, he triumphs in her fallen state. 

Why, may it be asked, are dancers greater objects for seduction than 
the actresses. The question is easily answered; the art of dancing 
exposes the person to general observation, as they are probably the 
only object of attraction on the stage to the audience; the light airy 
motion of the dance, her elegant and becoming dress, the pleasing 
smile that plays round her lips, the harmony of sweet sounds to 
which she lightly moves ; last, though not least, is the exhibition she 
is compelled to make of her limbs, creates voluptuous fancy in ardent, 
temperaments, that becomes and constitutes the baseness of the intrigue. 
In addition to this, the dancers are ever young and graceful girls, ge- 
nerally very handsome, poor, and unprotected; this the seducer in- 
forms himself of, and proceeds with his business of destruction ac- 
cordingly, till ruined in health, fame, and fortune, probably the mother 
of children, without a Father to guide them in society, they in time 
learn the disgrace attached to their birth, and vent the accrimony of 
their feelings on their mother ; thus she lives, her life is embittered 
with domestic misery, and if she dies, her children are consigned 
to public charity, or become houseless homeless wanderers on the 
earth. When she dies, there let the veil of oblivion rest, she meets 
her judge, where the secrets of all hearts are known. 

But Fanny’s case was different; her descent was honorable, her si- 
tuation the best she could desire, as she moved at the head of her 
profession, and might have married an honorable and worthy man, had 
not temptation assailed her, in the form of the young Count Rheem- 
sted. Who has not heard or read of the great Napoleon Buonaparte, 
the Conqueror of Italy, and a large part of Europe, and Emperor 
of the French, or of his marriage with Maria Louisa, daughter of 
the Emperor of Austria, the offspring of this ill assorted marriage; 
contracted under the most unhappy auspices, when a lovely girl was 
compelled to sacrifice heiself, and plight her faith to a man old 
enough to be her Father, to save her country from his ravages, and 
her country women from the outrages of a soldiery ; and in the son 
of this man the beautiful Fanny Elssler met her seducer, in a youth 
scarcely of mature age ; this and her extreme youth is the only ex- 
tenuation of the art with which she eluded the vigilance of her ever 
watchful Father, whose care had preserved her pure and uncontami- 
nated till the precarious age of sixteen, when the passions predomi- 
nated over prudence, and nature asserts her right to reign su- 


8 


preme, over the hearts of youth and innocence, through the be- 
witching wilds of all powerful love; and alas for pretty Fanny, 

The sly young archer sent a dart, 

That wounded the virgin to her heart. 

Fanny had, from her entrance into public life, been accustomed 
to seethe youthful Count Rhetmsted, occupying his august mother’s 
box in the Opera House, and receiving from his ey< s that approba- 
tion of her performance 'etiquette forbid his yielding in the usual man- 
ner to her grace, elegance, and surpassing beauty, their eyes had 
met in the moments of delight and exchange; glances each felt, 

But neither understood ; 

then, while the house was ringing with appliuse, she escaped from its 
thunders to the bosom of her fond Father: and the appioving glan- 
ces, she delighted to meet, yet dreaded to encounter, as they gave a 
richer glow of pleasure to her bosom, than the plaudits of tens of 
thousands could do, and happy to escape from the brilliant eyes, that 
elegant, handsome, fascinating youth, the admiration of Vienna, and 
perhaps of all Europe; what to her must emanate from such glances, 
what but r 

Love, the sly master of art? 

and in this case, he was indeed a master of art ; as he taught them 
the wit to conceal from the numerous eyes that surrounded them, the 
young passion, then budding in each heart. The Count’s looks of 
love, were, by the proud Nobility of Vienna, imputed to approba- 
tion of her unrivalled talents, ease, elegance, and grace; thus each 
soft smile towards him spoke volumes to his heart, while the multi- 
tude that surrounded them fancied it was humble gratitude for his 
condescension in bestowing on her a look of approbation, was honor- 
ing by his presence her performance; but as none understood those 
glances of love, sacred only to lover’s eyes, a heart on which they 
doted in their closets — nor would any of the proud nobility have 
credited, had they been so informed, that the love they coveted for 
their daughters, sisters, nieces, or grand daughters, should be the pro- 
perty of a public dancer, the child of a merchant, what, though he 
had been once affluent, he was at present poor, and dependant on that 
dutiful daughter, who was herself obligated to the public for their 
patronage ; such a suggestion was deemed prepostoi ous, and none 
could have ever convinced the exclusives of the fact. But among 
the corps de ballet, the soft language of her eyes as they exchanged 
looks of love, was well understood and reported accordingly, among 
their own circle of society ? While to the elite it was an embryo 
which time only would bring to life; but what can escape the eyes of 
a politician — nothing — they ransack the caverns of the (arth in search 
of that treasure which governs them, and by which they rule the 
world. ^ 


9 


' Money, General Jackson says, is power, and that sways all illiberal 
minds, and by such a being, who is destitute of a heart, was their 
young love detected, while yet budding; to them its buds was delight- 
ful, its blossoms charming, but alas ? its fruits were sin, sorrow, death, 
and bitter repentance, when too late to regain the best paths of pru- 
dence, and content, for her ruin had succeeded to love ; when two young 
persons of different sexes are indulging in all the folly of 

Loves young dream, — ( Moore ,) 

their hearts glowing with all the force of passion, yet compelled by 
arbitrary laws to combat with their feelings. What can be expected 1 
but if opportunity presents itself, they will gratify every desire of 
their young, and ardent hearts, even at the expense of prudence, ho- 
nor, discretion, and every person dear to them ; parents, family, 
friends, fame, and fortune, all are relinquished for the gratification of 
that passion nature has in their hearts, yet which must ultimately be 
their destruction if unlawfully indulged. The cunning politician 
that detected their love, in its early stages, and fed the foolish passion 
in the young Count’s bosom, as it was generally supposed, but to al- 
lure him to destruction. 

Prince Meitiernich, whose policy and sincere attachment towards the 
Emperor’s son, induced him to watch the progress of that fire that 
was secretly consuming their young hearts, and privately to feed 
their folly by imperceptible steps to the precipice of ruin, from whence 
he hurried them down the gulf of shame, from thence he could hurl 
them at pleasure into the abyss of misery and death. He was at last 
too fatally successful. When a nobleman, of his rank, age, fortune, 
and understanding, cbndescends to become pander to young persons 
scarce past the days of childhood, we must be conscious, there is some 
secret and deep laid plot. When the prince first intimated his disco- 
very to the Count Rheemsteed, his blushes and evasive answers con- 
firmed suspicion and he secretly resolved to be the ruin of both these 
interesting young persons, the Count, and pretty Fanny, and suc- 
ceeded, but too fatally, in maturing the secret folly, he had detected in 
the Opera House, when blooming, in all the bewitching charms of 
sweet sixteen, artless, innocent, and admired, her beauty embellished, 
by the elegant costume so becoming her countenance, beaming with 
love and pleasure, that she appeared to the young Count’s fancy as one 
of the favorite Goddesses, or a wandering Sylph, who had descended 
from her airy abode of the regions of light, to charm his every 
sense, rather than a dancing girl, who was exerting all her talents 
in the graceful art, to delight and amuse him; while she, impelled by 
the passion that glowed in her breast, excelled even herself, on that 
fatal night, when her charming smile, on quitting the stage, gave the 
Count hopes of success, disclosed, their mutual passion to the pro- 
found politician, well knowing that they were then at the most critical 
' of all periods ip the. life of both sexes, yet nia^gre* feeling, honor, 

o 


10 


pride, and self-respect, without pity, or even sympathy, with a fond 
and dot ng widowed mo:her, and conscious of the pangs he must 
create for the gool old Emperor who adort d h;s only amiable grand* 
son, basely to initiate himself into the Count’s confidence, and < xt. act- 
ed imperceptibly the dear sc as the young man fancied the best 
conceal d s era of his heart, for which he r< paid him by indulging his 
amour impropre , with the grac ful danseuae , and condescaided to act 
as pander to the youthful pa r, at whose s.citt me<t ngs he connived, 
till her ruin w.»s accomplished, and the Count s< cured ; whether he 
secured the secret apartments in which they nru t, wa? not known, but at 
the Count’s reqmst, a house was j U:chas< d for his b. lov< d Fanny, or 
rather, a vtlla , where he could pass a few" delightful houis, or even 
days with her, and she reside, tree from the prying eyes of Nobili- 
ty, and the authority of her parents, whose distress and grief, at her 
fall wiung their hearts w.th grief, and anguish, to whom she trans- 
m tted money to suppoit them in their elegant establishment, which 
they uniformly, and resolu ely reused, choosing to suimit to eveiy 
deprivation, rather than live in elegance, on the washes of their daugh- 
ters shame. Fanny thus pliced in a chaiming villa, a short distance 
from the busy haunts of men, I might add the irnpertihen* curiosity 
of women, enjoying for a time the most peifect happiness, loving and 
beloved, her hours passed in ia;tures, when visited by the Count, and 
during his residence with her, all was sunshine; but this was for a 
brief season : 

Too soon did death assert his sway, 

And call her heart’s first love away. 

Thus, bereaved of her idol, and totally without the Christian’s hope 
of meeting in a better worll, poor Fanny was, for a time, almost a 
maniac; it was then the tender parent, forgot the errors of their suf- 
tering chill, pressed her with fondness, forgiveness, and commissera- 
tion, conducted the suffering victim of political intrigue to their hum- 
ble horn \ where the mourner was for a time concealed from ev«ry 
pursuit of hr enemies. How long she remained stjtionaiy in Vien- 
na, is unknown, but as I am informed by the European papers, of that 
date, her loss of the Count, rendered her a recluse from the woild ; 1 ut 
her parents suffered in silence every deprivation that human n ture 
could endure, except ac’ud want, disdaining to apply, to the man for 
assistance in the hour of need, who had accelerated, if not caustd the 
ruin of their chill, thereby the lost guilty thing she then was, and 
he, his purpose accomplished, forgot, 0 r seemed to do so, that ever 
fibers was such a person as Fanny Elssler. 

The n xt account I read of her, she was at Paris, the frail shadow 
of her former self, pale, spirith ss. and dejected, she looked no more 
like the blonm ; ng Fanny Elssler, that had delighted many of the 
.French nobility in their v’si’s to Vienna, in her bright days of youth 
and innocence, and though the expression of her countenance was 
'•ad, there was a pleasing sweetness in its pensive cast, that in a coea* 


u 


snre atoned for the loss of her brilliant bloom, which once had ren- 
dered her radiant as the rosy morn. She was ng»in a dancer, being 
> compelled by circumstances to active cxoition. H r parents removed 
with her to Paris, where she resumed her profession, under the most 
liberal patronage, though her heart no longer panted with its fo.mer 
thirst for that applause so liberally lavished on her by an admit ing 
audience, still she impelled by nature’s first best gilt, taint, and the 
best instruction Vienna could afford, the celebrated Taglioni, having 
b*en her able instructor, continued to charm and delight the French 
nobility, her generous friends. 

Few nations, so highly appreciate the art of dancing or patronize 
it with the same enthusiasm as the French; all are dancers, male, 
and female, oil, and young, from the aged grandmother, down to the 
playful girl of six years, 

All on a joking holiday, 

Jo.n the merry roundelay; 

and this brilliancy of fincy, so peculiar to this gay and happy people, 
exten Is from East to West, from North to South of La grande nation. 
Ail though the style of dancing is not so scientific as Miss Elsslu’s; 
it w is to th -m as great source of pi asu *e, as her more el gant slyle of 
mivin r in the graceful art, is to her of profit, and fanev ; it was this 
u livers il taste that excited for her sorrows, that sympathy among the, 
p j o ile, thit hid rend ued h a r, in their estimuion, the mist brilliant, 
and oerseemed beamy; they ha 1 h<*ard or read of her tile of woe, 
an! 1 ito bereavement, so fir f om depreci itiog her in their opinion, 
serve ! to endear her to their hearts. They had loved the father, and 
fo* his sake sympathized with the fiir danseuse , whose ruin the son 
htd caused. Of the liason between her, and her ad>red Count, the 
nobility and citizens of France were better infaimed than those of 
Austria, of the same rank, for at his death 

The shameful tale was only whispered around. 

Of her devi itioi from virtue, in favor of the youthful Buonaparte, 
who was still renvmb re 1 bv the gay nation ; and their d?ep regret, 
for his loss. With her dreadf il mental sufferings, which they well 
knew, wis excite 1 bv lo r e, the virgin’s ban-; therefore, her fall did 
not excite any acrimonious feelings, towards her, they pitied and ad- 
mired, 

* Au con trie, 

h a r indiscretions, were to them emblems of a warm heart ; susceptible 
of imbibing an ardent and tender affVtion ; they, therefoie, participa- 
ted in her misfortunes; and impelled by t » e i r sympathy, determined 
to improve her fortune : thereby to at one to her, for the ancruish she 
had endured; w 7 hicn they were conscious was the offspring of 

La belle passion, 

by lavishing on her the idol, which the world covets; accordingly 


12 


on Miss Elssler’s benefit, being announced by the bills ; all ranks, 
from La Duchesse , down to the humble vender of the finny tribe, 

Hasten in pairs, to grace the Opera House ; 

which was, from the dress circle, where sparkling with jewels, and all 
the elegance of dress, shone the beauty and fashion of the city of 
Paris, and every other part of the house, was filled to an overflow, 
while thunders of applause delighted and cheered her, during her 
arduous performance of her duty that evening, for the amusement of 
her friends. 

Thus, was the calumniated mourner received with indulgence, 
and supported with eclat, by the nobility, and citizens of Paris ; by 
whom she was protected, from the persecutions of her bitterest 
enemies ; her griefs, moderated, and her fortune improved ; till 
again, 

Health bloomed in her cheek, pleasure beamed in her eye, 

No domoiselle looked lovely when Fanny was by. 

And she was, on her removal to Paris, almost happy, though a deep 
heart-rending sigh would, at intervals, escape from her heart, too 
painful a memorial of him she loved, more than life ; this often 
banished health from her cheek, and left but a share of her former self. 

The French, generally, seem to possess a greater cnarm for ba- 
nishing sorrow and care from the bosom of affection, than any other 
nation. This power was, as I have read, successfully exerted in 
Fanny’s favour, by all ranks and degrees. 

Her former beauty, cheerfulness, and health, returned ; this im- 
provement in her circumstances, contributed, in no slight degree, to 
render her an object of attraction to the young dissipated noblesse of 
France, who sought her society, with all the assiduity that passion 
and gallantry could practise ; again was Fanny assailed with letters, 
offers of settlements, the richest diamonds of Golconda, with every 
temptation that could be invented, to entice her again in the paths of 
destruction. But in vain did her Father watch ; her Mother, pray. 
In vain did Fanny, as heretofore, return their letters, and reject their 
offers. In vain did she assure those insidious young men, who, by 
bribery and stratagem, obtain access to her presence, i 

That her heart was cold to love, as Alpine snow, 

Or ice that on the Andes grow. 

This serious comic pursuit, of a beautiful, but love-lorn female, conti- 
nued for a year, till her patience was exhausted ; and her Mother, 
shrinking with horror, at the recollections of the mental sufferings 
that her daughter had endured — dreading to behold her a wretched 
maniac, again intreated her husband to obtain a cottage for them, in 
some sequestered situation, 

Far from the busy haunts of men ; 

to provide such an asylum, she proposed to dispose of all their va- 


13 


luable property, and funding the money acquired by their daughter’s 
benefits; to this proposed arrangement, both Mr. Elssler, and Fanny, 
consented, but who can unfold the volume of futurity, or trace the 
records of fate ; none, as the events of the Elssler family will prove. 
For scaicely had her respectable parent announced to the manager, 
that his daughter would relinquish her situation in the Opera House, 
at the termination of her engagement, and the old gentleman had 
gone off in search of the desired situation, than Mrs. Elssler was 
surprised by a card being handed to her with a name written on it, 
with which she was totally unacquainted ; and, on descending to the 
parlour, found an entire stranger, who proved to be no other than the 
Duke of Orleans. He humbly requested permission to see herjbeau- 
tiful daughter, in private ; but this, the old lady promptly refused, and 
his grace left the house disappointed and dejected. Where there is 
will, there is always a way, says the proverb ; and his grace of Or- 
leans, soon found the way, through the power of gold, to obtain an 
interview with the fascinating Fanny. 

He had long sighed in secret for the charming danseuse, but 
Fanny for a considerable time turned a deaf ear to his protestations 
of honorable constancy, and a liberal settlement for life. Her heart 
was cold to his love, for a while, and averse to his proposals; but 
who can resist Royalty, beauty, elegance, and love, when combined 
in the person of a noble, fascinating young man, 

Whose eye allures, and whose tongue persuades; 

not Fanny ; what may not a day, nay, an hour, produce, when op- 
portunities give place for importunity, and when the humble solici- 
tor is kneeling at your feet, holding out all the attraction of love, ease, 
affluence, elegance, honorable protection, and a splendid establish- 
ment, while, 

Au contrie, 

her future home, with her parents, presented but a joyless solitude. 
Thus tempted, again she fell, but not as before, the victim of love, it 
was rather in conformity with circumstances. Fanny had been 
raised in a city, habituated from infancy to all the luxuriance and 
eleganee that a profitable and extensive business can produce, 
and at a more advanced period of life, she had been placed 
before the public in a conspicuous situation ; being flattered by the 
patronage and plaudits of the crowned Heads of Europe. She had 
been the chosen object of an ardent enthusiastic young mans love; and 
had not his rank prevented it, an honorable and legal attachment, 
this passion would have made her his wife; it had not passed lightly 
from her bosom ; these circumstances, combining with her dread of 
solitude, where she was conscious she would only weep over the fal- 
lacious hopes, and death’s cold joys, till madness might ensue ; for 
Fanny loved not solitude ; as to her, 


14 


Green fields, and shady groves, with bubbling springs, 

Larks, woods, and nightingales, are odious tilings; 

she f.m i d there would be more happiness, with a charming Duke 
for a comp nion, an elegant villa for her r> si i« rice, within a short 
(J. ive of i > uri.s. and a r . Untie o s rvants for her attendants ; so thought, 
and so acted Fanny ; for on her lather’s return to Paris, he lound her 
mother we^pino at her daughter’s second ry deieliction from vi.tue; 
and Fanny tstib ished in an e^eiant ViPa, i*uch as her fancy had 
portrayed, whither he fo lowed her; but | rayeis and tears were all 
in vain, sh* persev. r.-d in her t ons ancv ; by this time, Love, the sly 
urchin, an i master of arts had sent at lair Fanny a \\and< mg dait, 
an i h» r Mason with the Duke, which had L en formed by circum- 
stances, b eam 1 a pass on, and she loved the Duke, with a let ling, 
if not as ten b*r, ar 1 n*, and durable, as had been her attachment to 
the Count, ? ti 1 1 it was warm en ugh to s it is fy the Duke, and for a time 
they busked in lov. ’s sunny bowers, surrounded with elegance, the 
ido of a fo il NobUm m, who lavished thousands on her; she was 
now pat on zing, when before she was pat on z d, giving to the poor 
wit i a li enl hand. Fanny was happy lor months. But where, 
mv real rs will ask, were ner parents? This, I am sorry, I cannot 
inf -rm them, as a l ta.it the papers stated, was, that they had le t Paris, 
an 1 went, no person knew where. Funny’s present amour, like all 
oth r illicit en agem ms, was, for a while, so immured fom so- 
ciety, nnl engrossed by tae company of her dear Duke, who seemed 
to l.ve but for her, that she was lest to the wo;U. Europe, abou this 
periol, became convulsed, the rupture between H dland and the Ne- 
therlands was giining g ound, an 1 civil war, with a 1 its horrors, 
sareal its deviation through the once united kingdoms before men- 
tioned, which term nat d in the Netherlands gaining their anci« nt 
rights asanitiori; thousands among them sti 1 adherred with the 
pe tinachy, those sturdy Sons of Flanders, only can show to a mo* 
mrchial fo m of government, in prefrence to a republic. 

And after emancipating thdr country, forming a constitution, con- 
sists r, like our own, of an upper and lower house, they wisely | ro- 
ce\lel to cho »se a king; whos * powers should be limited, and put 
up in a na? a'lel with the Royal family of Great Britain. The Electors 
choose Leopold of Saxe Coburg, the once beloved and esteemed hus- 
ban i of the orine >ss Charlotte of England, who died givingbirth to 
hmr first child; Un le to Queen Victoria, and brother to her husband 
Prince Albert. The election of Leopold, by the Flemish Stat< s, to 
th° th’on^ of the Netherlands, was an epoch, almost unparalleled; 
to s j eafr *e anl in lepen lent people, a r ter having thrown of!' one 
monarchial yoke, at the expense of immense treasure, and the Lst 
blool in the country, proceeding regu'arly and methodically to place 
themselves again un ler the auspices of a monarch; and the event 
has proved how wisely they have chosen, as Leopold has shown by 
his prudence, wisdom, and policy, and insured to the country, the 


15 


friendship, trade, and alliance, which is secured by his marriage 
with the amiable and beautiful Princess of France. But whet e was 
the Elsshrs, says the readtr; enjoying all the pleasun s. teat Bath, 
wealth, that happint ss c ould bes ow, till ti e mania - e of the pr.nci ss 
of France with L< opold, King of the Nethc i lanes, abruptly dhsc-hed 
the liason, which might otherwise have been anuihih.t cl by satiety. 
Pretty Fanny dcpa.ted 10 England ; in eigt teen l.undn d and thi.ty- 
thiee, we find her a dancer at the Opera Bouse, in London; hut 
whether as a pupil, or as a protegee of l\.glioni’s. or wholly un- 
connected with her, tne woik fiom whence i de. ive my inortna- 
tion,does not info; in me, It had been happy for the pietty Fanny if, 
in consonance with the innocence of her early life, the pictu.e here 
drawn, presents her in the days of chi d sh vivacity, even after her 
two Lasons, had she continued the unsophist cated giil *he then was, 
her early errors woald hive been forgotten, the veil of obli- 
vion would have been thrown over them, and the waters of L» the, 
obliterat-d them from the memory of the generous, and liberal-minded 
Nobi ity of England, who will tolerate, and pardon the g< n;al t riors 
of youtn, when notpiact sed under their inspect on. r l \ us, might 
Fanny a^ain have acquired pub ic confidence and es’eem, but for he r 
own folly, and I am sorry to say, that our faveu.it- f rgot he nour, 
pru fence, an 1 delicacy; for, in the work from which 1 gain my in- 
fo. m tion, I find her dancing to a tract the attention of an elderly 
gentle min of high r ink. and va.-t fortune, with whom she afterwards 
formed a liason, although he was a marrit d man. and old enough to be 
her Father; what her inducements wme to j lace herself under such 
protection, no one could imagine; her salary was lileial, her } atro- 
nage was extensive, and of the first order in the kingdom ; tl erBoie 
it must have been her mt ret nary motives, a’one, which inf uenced 
her to foim this connection ; if so, her vi< ws were fully real zed, rs 
her estiib ishment was elegant, her jewe’s splendid, and fu r dresses 
the richest that Paris coul 1 furnish ; this enopg* merit lasted till de- 
cency required him to attend his lady to the Ge.man S| a, lot the re- 
covery of her health. 

And in his absence, Fanny coquetted with any handsome young 
nob'eman ; and they were nume ous that sought her society. Fan- 
ny’s beauty had creat d her many enen i s an ong the sul ordinal s 
of the Opera House, and this gradually reached the Duke’s eais, and the 
liason was terminal -d sho tl v afer his lady’s death ; and for sometime 
t!»e Elssler was the most fashionable Belle of the season ; lover suc- 
ceeDd lover, in her fa\or,and being totally void of ait, is the world 
would say. prudence, sufficient to oonctal tl ese flirtations, which was 
marked by her enemies, and reported accordingly, by this folly she 
lost the favor of the ladies of tl e Court. Queen Adelaide, a prude 
of the German school, was then at the head of ton, and the stric f eet 
German etiquette governed the British Court; therefore, these public 
female characters who infringed the laws of virtue, and were de- 
tected, or even suspected, was looked coldly on, by all the female ex- 


16 


clusives at court, till they were ultimately frowned down into insig- 
nificance. This accounts for Fanny’s frequent excursions into the 
Continent of Europe; as on every faux-pas, or even flirtation of hers 
being discovered, she would, if possible, withdraw from the English 
stage, till recalled again by the elite of both sexes, conscious that the 
formal manners of the Court, would deter them from visiting the 
Opera House for fear of offending the too prudent Queen, who would, 
if she did not reprimand her, refrain from visiting the establishment, 
to which she was attached, conscious by remaining she would injure 
the business and interests of the company, thus painfully mortifying 
her feelings by leaving England to atone for her folly; she 
therefore generously made an excursion, on these occasions, to Paris 
first, the scene of her second error, where she was ever received with 
the most unbounded applause by the nobility of all ranks, and citi- 
zens of every class and situation ; her liason with his grace, the 
Duke of Orleans, had not depreciated her in the estimation of the li- 
beral minded Parisians; and her return was always hailed as a 
jubilee, by the patrons of the Opera House. Her residences in that 
city, was therefore, even to her, a source of pleasure, with profit, and 
it was with regret she quitted Paris, to fulfil other engagements, 
which she had made previous to her leaving England, with the va- 
rious cities of Europe. As to excel all the dancers of the age, as 
much in popularity, as she did in science, elegance, and grace ; ever 
impelled by this thirst of fame, she sacrificed even happiness, to the 
gratification of the predominating passion of her heart, but her honor, 
ever retained so powerful a sway, on her mind, that she never was 
known to break an engagement, made in her profession, on any con- 
dition ; it was immaterial, how advantageous, the terms offered to her ; 
she adhered tenaciously to her engagements; this rendered her so 
truly respectable among the managers on the Continent of Europe, 
that she generally made her own terms ; and if any thing, par accident 
deterred her from arriving where she was expected in proper time, it 
was generally attributed to its true source, as Fanny’s honor and in- 
tegrity was never suspected ; it was therefore, chance, accident, or 
circumstances, that received the censure of the aggrieved party, and 
not the lovely danseuse, who was considered the emblem of justice 
and truth, 

For firm in purpose, strong in mind, 

She ever to the right inclin’d. 

But Miss Elssler was a dancer, young, and beautiful, with a heart 
formed for love alone; she was, therefore, by the young nobility of 
Europe, marked as a proper object for dishonourable pursuit, and as 
such was she sought for, by dissolute libertines of those cities, 
where her profession called her ; for alas ! she had no 

Brother, in a sister’s quarrel bold. 

Her Father, when she formed that liason with the Duke of Orleans, 


17 


“signed her to the fate she had chosen ; cursed and renounced her 
as a stigma to his name, and rendered to her sister Theresa, the ten* 
der attention he formerly lavished on his beloved Fanny, who he 
then resolved to alienate from his heart, and exclude forever from his 
family, as an indelible stigma on his once honorable name.; but in this 
barbarous act he forgot her affectionate, and fatiguing exertions in 
contributing to the ease and comfort of his age, when in his dark 
hour of adversity, she scarce more than a child, not having attained 
to her twelfth year, he had accepted for her a proposition from a 
friend, who had frequently been an admiring spectator of her pro- 
ficiency in the elegant art, and delightedly beheld her ; when, like 
Terpsichore, site floated 

With easy grace, adown the mazy dance; 

In her happy days of childhood, this, their kind neighbour, being 
connected with the Opera House, proposed to Mr. Elssler using his 
influence with the manager of that establishment, to introduce his two 
daughters as members of the corps de ballet in the Opera. This pro- 
position was gladly accepted by him, while his daughters heard of it 
with pleasure, almost amounting to rapture,] 

And his wife with pain. 

A fatal presentiment of the evils this flattering, but in her opinion, 
dangerous, and unpropitious engagement, was heard of by her, with 
a sensation approaching to terror, and every impediment to its 
being fulfilled, was suggested by her, but in vain ; ease, and comfort 
were Mr. Elssler’s idols, and to obtain them, he submitted his two 
lovely daughters to the most mortifying and dangerous situation in 
which it was possible to place them; on the contrary, the girls them- 
selves were delighted ; young, lovely, and attractive, they made their 
debut on the boards of the Vienna Opera House, in a humble, but 
conspicuous situation, as public dancers of the lowest grade. But 
the poor old gentlemen overlooked all danger or consequences which 
might result to his children from their exposed situation, in the hope 
of the emoluments which he would gain by the engagements, and 
emulation which their appearing on the stage together, would excite ; 
this, and his desire of honorably fulfilling his contract with the Ma- 
nagers of the Opera House, left him, totally devoid of appre- 
hension for their future safety, nor did he ever entertain an idea but 
that their sense of honor, and propriety would prevent their ever de- 
siring any other society than that afforded by their own family. 

“But the needy man that hath known better days, 

“Will grasp at straws, to change his fortune. 

And Mr. Elssler was the person here portrayed; for he ought to 
have been conscious that a young, lovely, and attractive girl, like 
Fanny, would be assailed by every temptation that beauty could create, 
on her being placed in so conspicuous a situation, as a public dancer. 

3 


IS 


It was now the poor derived from her early bounty, and youthful 
hand, so many worldly blessings in the form of donations, which her 
liberal salary enabled her to make to them ; and which she, in the es- 
uberance of her brilliant fancy, beheld as a reward for her early ex- 
ertions, by which she acquired her present proficiency in the elegant 
accomplishment of dancing with ease, grace, and science, as from 
this art, she derived the source that enabled her thus, to be liberal, 
though scarcely more than a child, and this knowledge her parents pos- 
sessed of the interest this benevolent propensity created for her among 
all ranks of the cittizens of Vienna. 

But who heard the tale, from fame alone ; 

Impelled them to liberally contribute, with the salary she received 
from the Opera House, a fair portion, thereby enabling her to gratify 
her generous feelings in favor of distress, and to aid which the No- 
bility of Vienna indirectly contributed, by filling the house on the 
the nights of her appearance. This, the watchful Manager soon ob- 
served, therefore her exhibition was nightly opened, for the humane 
child ; and the brilliant prospect she had in prospective into which she 
afterwards arrived, 

Of fortune blent with fame. 

And her little heart exulted with triumph at her unrivalled suc- 
cess, in the profession to which her Father’s circumstances, had as- 
signed her, and her sister, in the imperial Opera House of Vienna; 
in this too, she fortunately, for her own happiness, and her virtues. 
When a mere girl, consigned to oblivion by this, her Father’s arrange- 
ment ; what, though for a time they sparkle as stars in the hemis- 
phere of Vienna, and her fortunes flourished like the “green bay tree 
but, alas! when she became a woman, she fell from virtues height, 
and became an outcast, from the parental roof, till frenzy warped her 
mind, when pity restored her to her home, and the bosom of mater- 
nal tenderness. Again, her mother wept at the sufferings of her 
erroring daughter, but after her second lapse from viitue, with her 
Father’s malediction resting on her head, while lolling in the bowers 
of indolence, elegance, and extravagant luxury, she biaved the world, 
and estimated its good opinion as a fading meteor, which dazzles, but 
to deceived, prefering her Royal Duke, and the advantages his 
wealth gave her to friends, and family, there her too tender Mother 
frequently weeps in secret with soul, and sorrows of this too fondly 
beloved daughter, particularly, as was too often the case, Fanny was 
detected in a new illicit intercourse ; then, indeed, she sorrowed as 
one without hope, and reflected on her husband as causing the mise- 
ry thus introduced into h*r family, by his avaricious folly, in placing 
their girls on the dangerous boards of the Opera House; and next, 
for his unfeeling cruelty towards her darling Fanny; then, for his 
unbending spirit in not forgiving, consoling, and receiving her again 
to his parental protection, and sequestered but decent home, on the 


19 


termination of her liason with the Duke being dissolved ; but all in 
vain, this obdurate Father continued inexorable to all her prayers, 
and entreaties, and Fanny continued alone, exposed to all the illicit 
addresses of any titled liberiine that choose to make or transmit them 
to her, while travelling like the “wandering Jew,” to any of the diffe- 
rent cities where her profession required her to visit, or like the fc dove, 
which Noah sent from the Ark to seek a resting place ; but, alas ! 
for poor Fanny, there was no Asylum, for any limited time, like the 
dove ; she might pluck the olive branch, but there was no ground on 
which to plant it, and unlike the dove, she had no ark to return to, 
nor friendly hand to receive her; perhaps, had she like the prodigal 
son, sought her Father’s mansion, and said in the language of Scripture. 

Father, I have sinned against the world, and you, and pray to be 
forgiven. Nature would have exerted her powerful sway over his 
bosom, and his doors are again opened to his penitent daughter. But 
this, her pride, and a portion of her Father’s spirit, inherent in her 
nature, forbid her doing, and she continued among strangers, who 
appreciated her residence among them, but for what they gained by 
her; and Oh! how different did she find this forlorn state, from the 
delightful hours, when in infancy, and childhood, a fond Father ca- 
ressed, and protected her; while a tender Mother watched her 
every look with a conscious care ; nightly, when she slept far from 
thence, was her pillow bedewed with tears, at the remembrance of 
that delightful period. 

Alas ! poor Y orick ? 

No friendly door opened to receive you ; alone you are left to pine 
and die ! Yet what was your crime which a Father cannot pardon, 
and cruelly withholds from you a Sister’s fondness, and a Mother’s 
love. Her fault was a venial one, of which hundreds have been guil- 
ty, and will continue so to be. 

While men are false, women weak, and believing; 

Then Liberdnes use every art tor deceiving. 

Fanny’s circumstances continued prosperous in a pecuniary point 
of view, between five and six years, so great was her emoluments, 
acquired by her profession, that she refused from the Manager of the 
Opera House, as was supposed made to her by the King’s authority, 
of three tho sand pounds, annu lly for life, on condition she would re- 
main that establishment eight months, which she rejected, from mo- 
tives best known to herself, and continued roaming from Kingdom to 
State, and from State, to Kingdom, where her profession led her, at 
intervals, the gayest of the gay; till too painful memory recalled to 
her mind’s eye the scenes of sorrow, through which she had passed. 
Then would despondency usurp the place in her mind, late bright- 
ened by a gleam of sunshine, and she would sink into a low melan- 
choly state, that almost incapacitated her from fulfilling the duties of 
her profession, and it was remarked, says my informer, it was in 
these seasons of despondency, her liasons w r as either formed, or bro- 


20 


ken off ; perhaps had her Father remembered his own youthful years, 
the recollection would have ameliorated the obduracy of his heart, 
and rendered,him more indulgent to his successful, but erring daugh- 
ter. While, she happily re-established under the parental roof, and 
his protection would have been secure from the temptations, which, 
when it became publicly ascertained, that she stood alone in the 
world, daily, nay, hourly, assailed her, and ultimately seduced her to 
a third liason in England with the Duke of M , and on the reso- 

lution with which she continued to infringe the laws of her Creator, and 
those of Society, with impunity, uncontrolled, and un reproved, except 
by the reprimands, or by the cold stern frown of Queen Adelaide. 
And from these, she generally retreated to the more genial air of Pa- 
ris, and the cheering plaudits of the gay Parisian, soon eradi- 
cated from her memory, the cutting reproof, or stern soul chilling 
frown of the British Queen. 

But the gopd, just intentioned Mr. Elssler, had adopted an errone- 
neous method of rendering his daughter a fair Penitent , for the ve- 
nial crime of love, by making her independent of his authority, and 
totally her own mistress, with beauty to excite admiration, and love, 
with a heart but too susceptible of that passion, in its most ardent 
state, and dependant on a profession which inspires voluptuousnesst 
for a subsistence, what could be expected from a young, lovely, and 
unprotected woman, who was known to have sacrificed her chastity, 
but that she would fall the victim of temptation she says, with the 
author of Adelgithia, 

She who has fallen, will fall again. 

When even the watchfulness of her Father, for the preservation of 
that virtue he ever desired to see shine conspicuous in the conduct 
of his dear Fanny ! had failed. How could he expect that a girl left 
wholly to her own guidings, but that she would again become the vic- 
tim of error, nay, had he not by his own vigilance, rendered her mind 
imbecile, prepared that mind for dependance, on some protection, then 
barbarously forsook her. Alas ! how slender was his knowledge of 
the human heart generally, and of woman’s in particular, not to be 
conscious that the more vigorously they are guarded, theg reater their 
anxiety will be to encounter danger, and every plea they can devise to 
elude that vigour, and despite as was Fanny’s case, of the rigid care 
of their natural protectors meet ruin half way, or attracted by allure- 
ments fall. Hence it often occurs in life, that most exemplary and 
pious parents have the most disobedient and profligate children. 

Doctor Goldsmith says in his inimitable Novel of the Vicar of 
Wakefield, the virtue which requires constant guarding, is not worth 
the trouble of watching! And the truth of the Doctor, adage, Fanny 
but too fairly realized, commencing with deceiving her family, and 
the world, by eluding the vigilance of Mr. Elssler, on her liason 
with Count Rheemsteecl, who was generally supposed to have fallen 


21 


a sacrifice to his boyish attachment, and the effervescence of this, his 
first passion, or the machinations of state policy, but which has never 
transpired, and will ever remain a secret; but it is certain that some- 
thing undermined his constitution, and he died at an early age. A large 
portion of censure has been attached to Prince Mietiernich, on his 
account. How justly he merited the animadversions upon his con- 
duct, in this affair, through Europe, and America, God only can de- 
termine, and to his judgment, alone, we will leave the deep politician, 
and return to our fair favorite, Fanny, who continued, maugre her 
unrivalled pecuniary success in her profession, or still an unhappy 
pilgrim on the earth without end, or aim, object to live for, except the 
amusement of the idle, and the conversations of the dissipated reck- 
less libertine of fashion and fortune, who worshipped at her shrine 
in the different cities of Europe, which increased her populaiity in 
her profession, by Uheir plaudits, but sunk her in the estimation of 
honorable persons, whose good opinion would have conduced to her 
happiness, and their attendance at her benefit would have been fame, 
and fortune to her. The attractive magnet that created joy to others, 
and dre^v thousands into the treasury of the Opera Houses, to which 
she was attached, yet was she, herself, the victim of satiety ; naught to 
her w r as delightful, or gratifying, but the remembrance of 

Home, home, sweet home. 

And wdiile the house rangwdth plaudits, at her unrivalled elegance 
and grace, she heard them not, for home pressed heavy on her feel- 
ing heart, and her celebrity was lost in the recollections of that dear, 
that much loved home. 

Sole source to her of all the joys, 

Her heart so long had loved to prize. 

What was fortune, or fame to her, and with all their liberality, she 
could acquire, nothing! What had she to live for ? Man delighted 
her not, nor woman either? To her existence, from all her heart, 
held dear in this bustling, busy world, yet to whom could she turn, 
for that guardian care, her natural, but unkind parent, withheld from 
her ? None, and life w~as to her a blank. But thou, O Lord, the 
Orphan’s friend, the widow’s stay, was with her, and even in the dark 
hours of midnight, consoled her, although her heart knew thee 
not, nor called upon thy holy name. 

Fanny had seldom been an attendant on divine worship, and then 
only in compliance with her Mother’s request ; or at some high festi- 
val of the Church ; yet she lived in an age, and country, where Re- 
ligion w 7 as at least practised, and revered externally, yet she knew not 
her Creator ? and that added to her other deficiencies, a tenacity of 
opinion, early acquired from ’her Father, that misled her, that had it 
not been for that charity so natural to her, which, as the proverb says, 
covereth a multitude of sins, she would have sunk into the darkest 
recesses of despair : that Fanny was a sinner, the world is conscious, 


22 


but that she was also charity personified; and we hope that her cha- 
rity to the poor, ameliorated many of her sins, although 

Her pity gave, her charity began, 

But what can administer to a mind deceased ? And Miss 
Elssler’s mind, was the seat of sorrow, that created the disease 
which consumed her health, and daily exhausted her spirits; 
then she lived, for what purpose, she knew not, but wept till tears ale- 
viated the agonies of that heart, whose best feelings was interred in 
the tomb of her beloved Count, whose spirit she panted to join in 
that bright, and better world, whither he had flown, thus, was that 
hope alone, the charm that supported life, and rendered her a brave, 
but fearless spirit; thus she lived, guided by fancy only; who, like a 
meteor gleaming in the air, deceived her soul, while it amused her 
mind, by whispering death — was her only source of consolation, as 
it consigned her to an eternal oblivion of all her sufferings, thereby 
offending a just, and terrible Creator, who, let us hope, will not permit 
her to be entirely lost, as the laborer, who came at the eleventh hour; 
was as welcome to the Lord as them who entered on their work early 
in the morning; and our heroine’s situation is in the same condition of 
the woman caught in Adultery ; the Saviour sayeth, Let them that 
have no faults cast the first stone; and as we all have many, no stone 
was cast at the offending criminal, who will, we trust, live for repent- 
ance, which I hope will be the fate of erroring Fanny, who chastized 
for errors which she only participated, will, by the power who fprmed 
the world, be permitted to live and work out her own salvation, as she 
can by an acceptible conduct in the estimation of the world, and a 
pure holy one in the judgment of her beneficient Creator, who de- 
sires not the death of sinners, but that they may turn from their deso- 
late ways, and live candidates for eternal life, through the merits of 
him who died, that all might life peacefully in this world, then clos- 
ing their eyes in the sleep of death, in this world, wake to eternal 
happiuess in the next, and when thus called by the imperial mandate 
of Heaven, may she here enjoy that peace which passeth all under- 
standing, keep her heart, and mind in the knowledge, and love of 
God, in this life, that her latter days, she may be happy, that when 
summoned by death to realms of bliss, the wishes of all good people 
who are acquainted with her virtues, may have the consolation of ho- 
ping her end was happy, that she is in the full enjoyment of heavenly 
bliss. Having thus conducted our favorite Fanny to the highest state 
of sublunary happiness, which any member of the human family 
can hope to obtain, and ideally blest, we will leave her to the happi- 
ness I trust she will yet merit, and proceed with her history. 

Fanny continued travelling from one city to another, whither her 
profession called her, apparently preferring that wandering life, as if 
she said to the world, I will still by this rambling life seek for a per- 
manent home, and for nearly five years had she any other accommo- 
dations, than the Inns in which she stopt at on her several journeys, 


23 


and the Hotels in which she was accommodated, when stationary 
during the period of her performance, at length her heart sickened with 
the keen affection occasioned by her alienation from her family. Na- 
ture will be heard by all her children, and Fanny was one, therefore, 
at the recollection of her Father, Mother, and Sister, reverted to me- 
mory, 

She sighed, and shed the bitter tear. 

At length courage usurped the place fear had held in her heart; 
conscience, says Shakspeare, 

Makes cowards of us all. 

And Fanny had indeed been a coward, as 

Conscience was her great, her just accuser. 

Encouraged, though condemned by its powerful voice, she resolved 
once more to visit Vienna, as she was, at that period, to the surprise 
of many, without an engagement, or a liason, though that need not 
have been the case, if she had been so disposed, but her heart panted 
to revisit Vienna, the scene of all her early joys, childish sports, and 
brilliant professional success, where she had laid the basis of her pre- 
sent ample fortune ; but it, alas ! was also the scene of her early love, 
her crime, and shame, her sorrow, and her wretched maniacism ! yet 
there she resolved fo return, although at the risk of imprisonment, if 
not death. How powerful is the operations of nature, in a young, 
and feeling heart, and although Fanny was conscious that to the intri- 
gues of the Minister of the Empire, Mietiernich, she owed her ruin, 
and all the evils it had created for her, yet did she long to see him, 
and talk of her beloved Count. Her parents, and Sister, were also 
powerful magnets to attract her to Vienna, and hither she privately 
removed. To effect this, the noble independence she had acquired 
by her profession, enabled her to do so on a very elegant, and exten- 
sive scale, yet this lavish expenditure but increased her sorrow, and 
repentance for the days she had passed over, she visited the Villa, 
where she once resided with her beloved, and now to her lost Count, 
for whom she shed bitter tears of sorrow; one whole day did she 
consecrate to his memory, and that day, was past amidst those charm- 
ing scenes, whose beauty they once had enjoyed together; thus she 
past that last day. She ever beheld her beautiful residence ; this was 
to her a feeling of the most bitter anguish, as she mused beneath 
those lovely, leafy shades, where they so often had strayed in their 
hours of love, she wept, and mourned his fate, with bitter tears. 

Then as evening shed her ebon shade, 

And silver Cynthia brighten dell, and glade, 

she bade adieu to her once delightful residence, and returned to 
her settled and elegant home, of which she alone was Mistress, and 
here she determined to reside in her beautiful establishment, but as a 
recluse in the place of her birth, as she rarely ventured into society, 


34 


and then only to seek a private interview with her Mother, and Sister, 
to effect which, she has walked for hours, 

And the pale moon, with shadowy light, 

Guided her way, and cheered her sight. 

And in this paradise she continued for several weeks, during which, 
at intervals, she wandered like a guilty ghost, around the scenes of 
her childish sports; and this continued for some time, till accident, 
perhaps, the guardian care of her better genius, brought the Mo- 
ther, and daughter in contact, at the door of a Church, as they were 
both entering the sacred portals at the same time, and nature, true to 
her duty, attracted -the Mother to her daughter’s side, whom she in- 
stantly recognized, although covered with a rich thick veil ; need I 
add that this, their first meeting, which was all tender emotion on both 
sides, such as would have attracted public attention, by rendering 
their joy at this unexpected meeting, and their too tender feelings, con- 
spicuous to the spectators, would have betrayed the too agitated Fan- 
ny to her enemies, had not the prudence of her Sister Theresa, who 
was accompanying her Mother to Church, when they thus met, pre- 
served her from public observation, by conducting them a short dis- 
tance from the crowd, from whence they adjourned to Fanny’s resi- 
dence, where the pleasures they experienced, at this happy restora- 
tion to each other’s society, from which she had been so long estran- 
ged by the commands of her inexorable Father, and when I add, that 
they enjoyed more genuine happiness, than either had experienced 
for years — and were so blest, that they could not withhold from that 
stem Father, their forgiveness for their long estrangement, and pre- 
sent delightful meeting, at which Fanny was so charmed, that she 
forgot every pain, and sorrow she had experienced, and being thus 
restored to the arms and confidence of' an affectionate Mother, from 
whom she had been for years excluded, and she now gave full sway 
to the fond exultations of her dutiful, and tender heart, and wept on 
that kind paternal bosom, 

Tears of rapture, love, and joy. 

That thus all her lonely wanderings, had happily terminated 
in the embrace of her affectionate Mother, from whose tender care 
she had been so long estranged, by her almost peculiar circumstan- 
ces, from that being whom she had been ever taught to love, and res- 
pect. Her Sister Theresa also participated in the happiness that at- 
tended this delightful and happy meeting between the fond parent, 
and her dutiful daughter, and partook warmly in the joy of their be- 
ing again united, as she hoped, to be no more estranged from each 
other in affection, and trusted that though their persons might be di- 
vided, their hearts best feelings would ever combine. 

Fanny, the long lost Fanny, was now presented to her Sister, and 
restored to her with pleasure, and sincerity, those affections she had 
experienced for her in cnildhood, 


25 


When happy to be fair and yourg, 

Together they had danced and sung, 

And she wept tears of joy, as she gained that dear, that beloved 
Sister, for the loss of whose society she had mourned in secret; and from 
whom she was now inwariiy resOiVed, not if possible, to be sepaiated, 
but to continue together. But it was now time for them to separate, as 
the strictness with which Mr. Elssler watched the pretty Theresa, 
rendered their return home requisite; and they, after kissing this 
restored daughter, and Sister, having previously made arrangements 
for their future meeting; arid returned home, to pray for happiness, 
while Fanny retired to her chamber, to weep tears of joy and sorrow. 
At this, her happy restoration, to the embraces of her affe ctionate Mo- 
ther, from whose tender care she had be» n so long estranged by her 
almost peculiar situation, and the unmerited misfortune of her youth, 
which had expelled her from her parental, and happy, and domestic 
home. Her Sister, Theresa, also participated in the rapture, that at- 
tended this delightful meeting, and rejoiced warmly in being for the 
present re-united to that Sister whose affection for her during their un- 
happy separation, had ever remained pure, sincere, tender, and endu- 
ring; ever combining with their early love, a desire to see that dear 
Sister, again restored to the family comforts, and domestic happiness; 
while Fanny delighted at having this long lost Sister returned to 
her, they wept tears of joy in thus regaining the society of her 
beloved Fanny. From this period, Mrs. Elssler was compelled to 
practices deception upon her husband, for which she almost despised 
herself, well knowing Mr. Elssler to be the slave of prejudice; she 
wisely determined to conceal from him their daughter’s present resi- 
dence in Vienna ; and to preserve the secret of her return to this, her 
native City ; her, and Theresa visited their beloved Fanny alone, at 
secret intervals, when they were certain Mr. Elssler was so deeply 
engaged, either with his business, or company, to know they were 
absent, while this dutiful daughter, charmed at receiving them at a 
house of her own, welcomed them with every demonstration 

Of that duty, and her love, 

Winch her heart had longed to prove. 

And they but too happy at having h^r again restored to them, prac- 
tised every art woman’s heart could devise to preserve their secret, 
unietected by her Father, who, they drfaded, coming to her at 
night, when the city was quirt, they kept s lent on a subject they well 
knew would expose them all to a second parting, by his denouncing 
her to her en-mies, as he frequently threatened he would, if she ev*r 
came to Vienna ; not that they could for a moment imagine he would 
be such a barbarian as to betray his daughter to shame, or punish- 
ment, and thus she continued to reside peaceably, though unhappily, 
in this, her native City; that place where she had been admired, 
loved, followed; and caressed by the greatest Noblemen in Europe; 


26 


the recollections of that happy period, but too frequently awoke the 
keenest anguish in her heart, which was increased by her present 
secret and concealed residence, which accorded, bye the bye, 
with her former gay habits, and brilliant prospects in eaily life, nay, 
even her vanity, for Fanny is vain, and who is not in a dtgree? 
These gay fancies, and regrets, preyed on her spirits, and debilitate d 
her system, till she was almost consumed ly ennui, and she fancied 
imps flitted through her elegant drawing room, and splendid boudoir, 
without interruption, distracting her mind, and marring the happiness 
she derived from the visits of her Mother, and Sister, which was nei- 
ther as long, nor as frequent as she could desire; this convened 
these brilliant apartments, almost into the very abodes of silence, as 
she, with her respectful dumb attendant, who was compelled 
to observe a profound silence, by her lady’s taciturnity, and who sat 
by her, 

The very emblem of that silence consumed by grief 
with nothing to detach her thoughts, and feelings from the sor- 
row that thus absorbed her, but the playful manoeuvres of a 
small French poodle, who, by its gambols, somt times forced a smile 
to irradiate the cheek of its fair mistress ; and in a measure ameliora- 
ted the ennui, which was thus consuming her, and brightened the 
solitude that in a degree reigned in these noble apartments, of which 
her mute attendant, and the playful animal, were its only inhabitants, 
except when her Mother, and Sister visited her, and them, which 
they did at every opportunity ; or when impelled by the darkrdicta- 
tion of his vicious mind, the Prince Mietiernich ; who, induced by 
designs best known to himself, frequently w aited on her 
At the ebon hour of night? 

and more frequently than the prudence of her Mother approved of, 
who, as his visits were confined to certain secrets, and equivocal horns ; 
these w r ere minutely noted by the good old lady, who observed to her 
daughter, that she well knew, and justice said 

That deeds of darkness shuns the light 

f She therefore suspected he was planning some injury to her daugh- 
ter, and secretly resolved to circumvent his plot, by silently 
Counter plotting ! 

And thus preserve her child from his base, or treacherous designs, 
if he had any ; thus, she by her sense, which a Mother only could 
have devised to save her child, she accordingly confined Theresa to 
her chamber for a day, then she infoimed hir husband of her daugh- 
ter having been seized with a sudden, and dangerous disease, which 
would compel her to keep her bed for a time ; being perftctly aware 
of Mr. Elssler’s horror for any kind of danger, and the teiror with 
which he dreaded the air; or, as he termed it, the effluvia of a sick 
room, and she was conscious there was no risk of detection on her 
consigning Theresa to her Sister’s residence, instead of her own. 


27 


thereby preserving her eldest daughter’s reputation, free from further 
taln f , while the youngest agreed toremain stationary there during her 
S s’er’s residence in Vienna, which Fanny, conscious of the risk she 
incurred by rem lining, dftermined her residence should be termina- 
ted at a very recent pe iod, and by this proper, and well conducted 
arrangement, was the delighted, pure, simple minded daughter, who 
loved her young Sister, with a tenderness almost unequalled, 

In woman, to woman. 

They were, when children, companions, and playmates, then can- 
didates for fame ; thus their success had been equal, therefore, no 
spirit of envy marred their domestic happiness, and good will towards 
eich other, thus silently, and affectionately had passed their early 
life, beneath their parent’s roof, and when Fanny eloped from be- 
neath that roof, the young Theresa wept in silent sorrow for the loss 
of her beloved Sister ; and now, when the lenient hand of time had 
restored her to them, and she beheld her, as she fancied, in danger 
of again becoming the victim of the policy or designs of the man, 
who, according to the gos<ip fame, had once caused her ruin ; she 
shuddered, and resolved to be her guardian spirit; while Fanny, sus- 
pecting that all was not correct in the secret, and nightly visits of 
the Prince ; and having no inclination to become the subject of the 
inveterate scandal in the neighborhood, the Prince’s visits had at- 
tracted that calumny, the censorious world is but too prone to la- 
vish on a young, beautiful, accomplished women, and as such only 
was she known in the vicinitv ; how then must Fanny’s affection 
been increased, when she beheld that young Sister making a sacrifice 
of time to her, and br ving even her Father’s anger to preserve her 
from becoming the victim of that censure on account of an old, rich, 
and ugly Nobleman, and who had been the source of the early dis- 
tresses she had experienced, and who was now insidiously endeavor- 
ing to draw on her the envy, malice, and hatred of her neighbors, 
and who was rendered by vanity 

“ Unconscious he had not any charms 
“To win a blooming virgin to his arms. 

And Fannv had no desire of such a conquest unless compelled to 
it, as she had once been by necessity, and might, an! did engage in a 
liison, when impelled by love, or fincv, with a handsome young No- 
blemm, who for the time being lavished on her in wealth; but she 
nad no taste for age, vice, and ugliness, nor even any idea, of being 
censured when she was not guilty. 

To have the name, and not the gain, 

Would be a sacrifice of fame ; 

And grateful to her young Sister, for thus preserving her from 
that dreaded evil, she thankfully received her into her elegant dwel- 
ling with gratitude, as her friend, and preserver. Again did her for- 
mer cheerfulness, gaiety, good humour, and philantrophy become the 
rvf bar bosom, again, did she poor of Vienna participate in 


23 

her bounty, and bless her for the comforts that her humanity bestowed 
on them. 

Fanny had not been so calmly happy since the period of her esta- 
blishing herself in this, h» r native City, and she determined her young, 
and beloved Sis:ei should experience the same delightful feelings 
that thus animated her own bosom, and to impart which she had am- 
ple recourses, the rare valuable accomplishments of which she was 
Mistress; thus, to impart these ireasures to the young Theresa, 
was her delightful, and daily employment, and which was so judi- 
ciously, and scientific. illy taught that in a short time the young The- 
resa equdled, if she did not excel her teacher, in music, fancy work, 
and embroidery ; dancing they had acquired in early youth : and again 
was Fanny’s drawing-room enlivened with “ the sweet silvery sounds 
of science, and of art,” the youthful Theresa almost forgot the paren- 
tal mansion, and a cold, unfeeling Father, chilling love. Theresa was 
now in her nineteenth year, a spirit of independance began to usurp 
the place in her heart almost bordering on apathy, but which her pa- 
rents misnamed content, and to this, her laudible spirit, her residence 
with Fanny had materially affected, she admired, the tastt neatness, 
and elegance, that pervaded through Fanny’s dwelling, and which 
she was conscious as far as her knowledge extended had been acqui- 
red by her Sister in the exercise of her profession, and she now deter- 
mined to emulate that Sister by following her example in the science 
of ease, an 1 grace; in this laudible spirit, Fanny encouraged her, 
they could, she observed, travel side together, money might be remit- 
ted to their parents, that woull contribute to their comforts, while the 
Sisters could reside together, Fanny secretly flattering herself that the 
knowledge she had so painfully experienced, would enable her to 
shield her Sister from the rocks of temptation, that had wrecked her 
peace, and blasted her fame, secretly resolving to have no more lia- 
sons; the past could not be recalled, but she determined that in the 
practice of virtue, for her future years, should atone for the errors of 
her youth, and as far as public fame fibs, she has strictly adherred to 
her resolution, as not liason has tarnished her name, since her re- 
union with her young, an l affectionate Sister ; again did Fanny’s harp 
breath forth celestial sounds of harmony, and love, through the hi- 
therto silent boidour, and the drawing-room resounded with the “silver 
strains” of her harmonious voice, as she skillfully revived, her Sis'ers, 
early acquired knowledge, on these instruments, again did “the laugh, 
and song” cheer their late sombre spirits, and again 
‘‘They tript on light fantastic toe” 

through the splendid drawing-room, and Fanny was happy, thus de- 
lighted with the society of her Sister, while Theresa, accustomed to 
the lonely sofemn silence which reigns in their Father’s house, so dis- 
gustingto a younganimated girl, she shuddered at the idea of return- 
ing. Music was Fanny’s passion, she loved it in her soul ; it was that 
that had formed her for her peculiar excellence in her professions, her 
heart was also turned to love, andalthough her first passion had been 


S9 

her ruin, yet singular as it may appear, she still loved the sly 
urchin 

Who had been to her a source of pleasure, and of pain, 

Such as she ne’er could know again. 

Need I add that the unity between her, and her Sister, recall -d to 
her mind, the days of her eaily love, and endeared her to Fanny’s 
heait, with more than fraternal affection ; Teresa, in the mean t me 
thus, admirably instructed, and by the band she loved, became a pro- 
ficient in every elegant ait that Fanny taught her, thus looking up 
to he r Sister as a friend, and companion, she trembled at the idea of 
a solitary home, and secretly determined on not returning to the pa- 
ternal mansion, unless recalled by a peremptory mandate from her 
Father, this summons Fanny well knew, 

Would ring the knell of her dnrlin? joys, 

If ro abed of that fair girl she had longed to prize. 

She accordingly resolved, to endeavor to secure Theresa’s society 
to herself, being convinced by experience that 

P^ocrastmtion is the thief of time, 

Made a ' proposition to her Sister of continuing to reside 
with her, to which Theresa joyfully acceedtd. Fanny, there- 
fore, disposed of her furniture, relinquished her house, and in three 
weeks from Theresa’s becoming a resident beneah her roof, they 
quitted Vienna. To this measure, their Mothi r yielded her reluc- 
tant consent, but fully sensible of the advantages that Theresa would 
derive from Fanny’s experience in life, and eminence of her elegant 
art, also dreading her husbands anger at the artifice she had practi- 
sed, consented to their departure, together as well knowing his tem- 
per would expend itself on her alone, which she valued not ; but she 
also dreaded the failure of his business, and felt how requisite to their 
aged comfort would be the pecuniary assistance which Fanny propo- 
sed sending her, as also the eclat her youngest daughter would ac- 
quire by being brought out as a public dancer under her Sister’s aus- 
pices, while Theresa shuddering at the idea of meeting an angry Fa- 
ther, used every exertion to expidite their departure from Vienna. 
The next account I find of them, they were in Paris, accommo- 
dated at one of the best hotels in that gay city, here Fanny received 
an advantageous, and eligible engagement, and the fair Theresa again 
beheld her Sister in all the glory of her elegant art, here our modern 
Terpsichore delighted the gay Parisians by her elegance, and grace, 
here they continued for an indefinate time ; to what period that time 
was prolonged, my informant does not say; the next account I find 
of them, is from the Albion, it states as follows : — 

The Elssler’s, has just completed an engagement at the Opera 
House, London, and with their usual success, honor, pecuniary ad- 
vantages, and with the highest eclat possible ; as a competition be- 
tween them, and Taglioni, has been the order of the season, the con- 
test is not yet decided by the critics, or exclusives. The Taglionis 
principal excellence is feeling ; while the Elssler’s particular attrac- 


30 


tions, are ease, elegance, and grace. This is the purport of the sub- 
ject, as transcribed from the Albion, the whole forming too muv:h 
matter for our limits. Mademoiselle Elssler is it is said now under the 
piotection of Mr. W— — , of Philadelphia. 

Hiving acquired the reput ition of the first danseuse in Europe, she determined 
to cross the Atlantic and acquire the same in the United States; where by her 
success, we find her creating the following excitement: 

THE ELSSLER SERENADE AND THE ELSSLER JACKASSES. 

The two foreign prints published in this city, the Herald and the Courier des 
Etats Un s in 'orm i«s that the serenade yesterday morning in honor of Fanny Elssler, 
passed oft* in a very sitisfhctory manner. The Herald says: 

“The sn-emde came off in a fine style, after midnight; a full account is in the 
Weekly Herald.” 

Turning to the Weekly Herald we find that it is wholly silent upon the subject, 
but we have been so accus oned to the Herald’s falsehoods that we are not sui- 
prised at this. The C ourier des Etats Unis says : 

“ The German Musical So:iety v com posed of amateurs to the number of 150, 
gave Fanny Elssler this morning a vocal and instrumental serenade, without ex- 
ample in the musical festivals of New York. The sleeping city was aroused at 
the so ind of this immense orchestra. And Fanny Elssler, from her window repaid 
with a thousand kisses , committed to the zephyrs , the gallantry of her countrymen /” 

This is a fair specimen of the honesty and truth of these fulsome idojitors of the 
German opera d \ncer. For weeks the Herald and the Courier des Etats Unis 
have been filled with the most absurd and disgusting rhodomamades in relation to 
Fanny Elssler. Their flittery has represented her as “divine,” and worthy to be 
worshipped, and the French paper has so far outraged the feeling of every Christian 
as to co np ire her to the Messiah. 

It is perfectly natural, now, that the sympathies of these foreigners should lead 
them to l\ud Fanny Elssler; but when they undertake, by their false and exagge* 
rated s’atements, to fasten upon free-born Americans the stigma of kneeling in 
worship, like the atheisms of the French revolution, before a dansuese , we are not 
surprised at the ebullition of populir indignation and disgust which was yesterday 
mmifested. In Baltimore a few youngGermans took the horses from this female’s 
carriage, and dragged her to her hotel. This is a free country, and if any body 
chooses to mike an ass of himself, of course lie should he at liberty to do so. But 
we contend that it is a hard case that the odium of such degrading and beastly pro- 
ceedings should be fastened upon republican Americans. We cannot sympathize 
with such drunken enthusiasm. 

It seems that a num 'er of citizens, apprehensive of a repetition of similar scenes 
in New York, on its being pro^l timed that agrand “vocal and instrumental seren- 
tnde” was to be given yesterday to this miraculous dancer, repaired to the spot, 
determined to discountenance any such token of homige. On the appearance of 
the serenaders, to the number of one or two hundred, a white flag was put ‘out of 
the window of Fanny Elssler's room, as an emblem, we presume, of her spotless 
chiracter. Now, considering that there were some four or five thousand Ameri- 
cans present, we think that it would have been quite as civil, not to say judicious, 
to have shown the “stars and stripes.” It was Fanny Elssler, however, that was 
to be glorified — to whom hymns were to be sung as at the German opera in Phil- 
adelphia — and the anti-American papers, including the Herald, were to come out 
the next d \y, of course, and swear that the whole population of New York shouted 
P'eans in her praise, and bowed before her chamber window in abject adulation. 
This was the game that was to he played. All this disgrace was to be heaped 
upon New-Yorkers merely for the sake of puffing the “divine Fanny,” in order 
that she might the so >ner relieve them of their “ten thousand dollars” and then go 
back to Europe and laugh at “de damned yangees.” — Sunday Morning News. 

The following address was delivered by G. W. Dixon, who the papers say was 
seized by the assembled multitude, as he came from his office, in Barclay street, to 
express the opinion of the majority assembled, opposed to such a serenade. 


31 

SPEECH OP 

GEORGE WASHINGTON DIXON, 

To the People gathered near the American Hotel on Friday night Aug. Sts, 
FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS 

In obedience to your call, l presume to present myself before you, and to give 
vent to such sentiments as the occasion seems to require. 1 am heie by mere 
accident, and am no fully acquainted with the cause> of this convocation, b -t, 
as 1 am informed, it is with the intention to render public horurs to he popular 
danseuse , Mademoiselle Fanny Elssler. No man living honors the sacred name 
of woman more than 1 do, and I would as cheerfully spend the last drop ot my 
blood in the defence of this or any other petticoat, if virtuous , as for Martin 
Van Buren or General Harrison, or any great public benefactor and patriot. 
Still, fellow-citizens, if this demonstration is to be considered the expressn n of 
the popular opinion of New York, I remonstrate aeaiU't i?. Shall an honor that 
has never been conferred on any President or Vice Piesidtni of the United 
States be shown to a woman of no unquestionable reputation] Shall the heels 
trample upon the head, and shall »he favors which were denied to ihe immortal 
Washington be granted to a second rate figurante! If so, let it be by the select 
few whoca// themselve> exclusives, and whodonoiserople toinirodi ce the Elssler 
to their own chaste wives and danabters. The plain people ol the land will not 
share in their degradation We will not bow the knee to Baal— if it must be 
bent, it shall be to our God— the power of mind to virtue or innocence. 

The majority of our citizens are decidedly opposed to having the world abroad 
believe thatthey are as completely stultified and imbrutedas the few nobles of 
Baltimore who, by putting themselves voluntarily into the traces, put themselves 
for the first time into their appropriate sphere, descending below the equine race, 
replacing horses with asses, the only animals who are fitted by nature to drag 
the car of such virtue and innocence as this lady is said to possess. I have 
heard a few hints whispered that personal violence is intended. God forbid ! 
The bare supposition is an outrage on the city. There can be no arm here that 
would not be raised to defend a female from outrage, be she what she may ; if. 
there be, palsied be its nerves, and withered the heart that animates it! The 
friends of the Elssler have a perfect right to heap “all the honor ” in their power 
on the goddess of their idolatry ; but let them not identify themselves with, or 
pretend to represent the city of New York. If this is a mob, (and as yet I see 
no indications of a riotous disposition,) whose is the blame] Who brought it 
together] Who, in the silent watches of the night, have collected this vast 
assemblage] — What is the expression of the majority present] Shame, scorn 
and indignation at the few by whom the city is proposed tube disgraced and 
degraded. What is the nature of the occasion] A German association (and I do 
not say it with the slightest feeling of prejudice) combine as a musical class, to 
the exclusion of all oth-ers, natives especially. 1 honor the musical ta lent of the 
country from which ihese Germans sprang — I admit the personal worth of such 
members of the society as I happen to know; but I cannot admit the justice 
or propriety of any combination of aliens, be they Germans, Spaniards, Italians, 
or of any nation whatever, not only to deprive native citizens, but other aliens, 
from the means of obtaining a livelihood. 

What are the facts! These German musicians, as I arainformnd, have con- 
spired to give no employment to any musician of any other nation, and to hinder 


32 


him from obtaining it. Is this to be tolerated? Is it endurable. Shall any 
stranger enter our doors and give laws to our household? Shall wereaiize the 
table ufihe hedgehog, and ihe unfor. unate animal who gave shelter to his Irtzen 
misery? “ The siorui is now over,” said ihe poor snake, “the cold is past, and 
mv habitation is not sufficiently spacious tor the accommodation ol two.” 
“ Tuank you for nothing," replied ihe hedgehog, elevating his quills, ‘‘1 am 
very comfortable where l am. If youare ini-cmmoded, there is plenty of room 
for you out ofdoors.” Just such Is the conduct of the German musici ns, who 
have agreed among ihemselves rather to perform foi nothing than to suffer others 
to procure the ju&i price of their time, talents and labor. I mention this fact, 
because there appears to be a considerable excitement manifested, as I can learn 
from the sounds which every moment reach my ears. Is any one here perso- 
nally hostile to Fanny Elsslei? Manhood forbid ii ! It is against this unholy 
combination., that have already made so many enemies by their course, and 
who now seek to represent the city of New York, that any indignation is felt. 
For the honor of the city, I hope, as I trus , that no act of violence will desecrate 
this spot or this night. You are ready to do all homage to the heels of Fanny 
E.ssler, in their proper place— and that is on tne boards of the theatre— not at 
the window of the American Hotel. Because this woman is a German, l 
I am not willing that it should be said, and believed abroad, that a small musical 
band, na ives or foreigners, repre>ems the feeling of the E npire City of the 
Empire Sta^e, like the select few of Bahimore, who, for purposes bestknown to 
the proeeior of a woman whose sole merit is in her limbs, to fill her purse, and 
send h a r hack t > her babes in Vienna with the shout of “Great is Diana of the 
Ephesians.” If it is to be under>u>od abroad that America has an Ephesus, 
where shrines are manufactured fora heathen goddess, though not the patron 
saint of chastity, let it not be said that New York is that city. Least of all he it 
told that here, of all p'aceson earth, such a woman was received with the rev- 
eren ce of a devotee at the shrine of the Holy Virgin ! 

Violence to Fanny Elssltr, or even her asinine friends, would disgrace a worse 
mob than cun be collected in New York. If the German band be determined to 
serenade her, let them do it without molestation. The only way to counteract 
such a slander upon our city, is to select some other member of the sisterhood, 
who is as conspicuous for innocence and virtue, and sing to her praise the fol- 
lowing strain : — 

Some people have virtues of heart and of head, 

By ihe action of which they can make daily bread; 

But my nigh'ly bread is not got by appeals 

To my heart or my head, but to calves and to heels. 

This will convince the world nt large, and the population of New York espe- 
cially, in what estimation such persons as theElssler are held by the moral por- 
tion of the community in private life, dance how she may, for 
“ Folly dances bare.” 

I apprehend that the music will be the good old air of “ The Cherivarie.” 
I have made these remarks for the purpose of showing to all within the sound 
of my voice that there is no intention to treat Fanny Elssler, or even her 
friends and supporters, in their proper place, with the slightest unkiudness, far 
less violence — but rather to declare mine, and, I trust, your disapprobation, of 
kneeling down in worship at midnight before any doubtful or disreputable cha- 
racter. France, revolutionary France, adored at the shrine of the “Goddess of 
Reason,” in the Champ de Mars. Let it not be said that the free born citizens of 
this Republic did so infront of the American House, in the Commercial Em- 
porium of the New World l 











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